


Check-in, Check-out

by KomakiTigerDrop



Series: Deleted Scenes_Grace Period is Over [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Comedy, Deleted Scenes, Humor, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 00:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10176395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KomakiTigerDrop/pseuds/KomakiTigerDrop
Summary: Takaba Akihito and Kirishima Kei are in a coma after being attacked by the same man, the now deceased Lieutenant Ochida of the Sengoku Family. Stuck in the in-between, they are eager to return to the place where Asami Ryuichi waits for them, but temptation, long lines and forms with complicated medical terms get in the way. Bickering ensues, and in his rush to return to his lover, Japan’s fiercest photographer ends up making a serious mistake.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a collection of deleted scenes from the story “Grace Period is Over”, and the events here are aligned with chapters 55 and 56. To understand what happened before, what will happen next, and who are the two OCs mentioned, please feel free to refer to said fic. ^_^
> 
> I chose to remove it from the main narrative because its surreal nature did not blend in with the other events it would have to accompany, and in reality it doesn’t do much to advance the plot or anything. XD But because I just love it when Akihito and Kirishima engage in their usual bickering, I wrote it anyway and thought of sharing. =P 
> 
> Warning for minor spoilers regarding Chapters 55 and 56.

  
Kirishima Kei let out a relieved sigh when the last few people in front of him left the line.

It was finally his turn.

He squared his shoulders, ready to hand in his check-in form, all filled with precise, beautifully handwritten answers, but when the brown-haired nurse behind the counter raised her eyes to his face, his words died in his throat.

“Mirai?” he asked quietly, staring at the familiar almond-shaped eyes with a mixture of shock and fascination.

“Excuse me?”

The woman’s slightly confused tone made him feel like a bucket of icy water had just been dumped over his head.

“Oh. Nothing,” he said quickly, pushing his glasses farther up his nose and blushing slightly when he noticed his eyes had dropped to the nurse’s rather deep cleavage. “You just remind me of someone.”

As he passed her the clipboard with the papers, Kirishima took a moment to look around. He could not actually remember ever seeing a “check-in” desk at a hospital, and the fact there were no other nurses or doctors despite the very long line of… _patients,_ made everything even more suspicious.

“How are you today… Kei?” the nurse asked, her voice soft and melodic as she stamped the form he had handed in.

“Fine,” he replied, a small smirk curling the corners of his mouth when she looked at him again. “Although I’m still not sure as to where I am.”

“You’re all good,” the woman replied, standing up to grab a key in a cupboard behind her. “We have a beautiful room prepared for you,” she continued, her lips curved in a sensual smile. “And it looks like I’m your assigned nurse…”

The excitement made him tingle from head to toe.

That long brown hair, the slender arms, the scent of spicy leather… it had to be her!

“Mirai...”

His voice was no louder than a whisper, but the way her smile widened made it clear she had listened.

“Kirishima!”

“Hmm?” he asked, his eyes fixated on the key the woman was holding in front of him.

_“Kirishima!”_

The feeling of someone yanking his arm made him finally turn around.

“You…” he said, with a frown so deep his eyebrows were almost connected. “What are _you_ doing here?”

++++

_That was a very good question._

Akihito had no idea as to where he was, for starters. All he knew was that he had spotted the secretary while trying to find his way out of that ridiculously big… _something_ , that looked a lot like a hospital but also as a hotel.

Definitely, that did _not_ look like the place where he was supposed to be.

“Kirishima, are we dead?” he asked, his pitch slightly higher than usual.

“No, of course- Oh,” the frown on Kirishima’s face slowly gave way to a look of annoyance, which was quickly replaced by surprise. “Wait. Check-in, is that-”

“If you choose to leave, you should fill the yellow form and take it to the checkout counter over there,” the nurse explained, pointing to a line that was at least five times longer than the one they were in. “But if you want to stay…”

“Stay?” Akihito asked. “As in, stay dead?”

“Yes,” the woman replied.

_That had to be a joke._

“So I’m _dead_?” he shrieked, eyes wide as he looked from the nurse to the man by his side.

“No.”

“Yes or no?” the photographer snarled.

“You’re in the in-between,” the nurse said after a small shrug, with the same casual tone as someone engaging in trivial talk about the weather. “You can check in, or you can check out.”

“Which one is the ‘not-dead’ option?” he asked, shifting restlessly on his feet.

“The check-out is the way back.”

“Thank you very much,” he replied, stealing a glance at the clipboard the nurse was holding a second before snatching it from her hand. “Idiot, you filled the wrong form,” he whispered, before removing the green page with the secretary’s signature and tearing it in half.

“Let me know if you need a new one,” the woman replied, winking at the bespectacled man by his side.

“We just need the yellow form, thanks,” Akihito chuckled, after shaking his head energetically, more than ready to move away.

Kirishima, on the other hand, looked hypnotized.

“Yes…” Akihito saw him mumble in response.

“Stop flirting with the nurse, Kirishima!” he hissed. “Asami is waiting for us!”

After yanking the man’s arm again, the photographer finally managed to drag him towards the right line.

“Did you see her?” the secretary asked.

“Yes. She looked an awful lot like Maya’s mother.”

“So it’s not just my imagination…”

“Oh, it is, trust me,” Akihito replied, after a scoff. “Real nurses don’t wear outfits that tight, or show that much cleavage, so yes, I’m sure this is your imagination, _and somehow I’m stuck inside it_!”

His voice was hitting that crescendo of irritation that usually made his ears go red, but he couldn’t possibly care less about keeping it down.

“Why are you so agitated?” Kirishima asked.

“You should be agitated too!” he replied, one of his hands curled into a fist as the other shook the clipboard vigorously. “We are in the in-between, Kirishima! You almost crossed to the other side!” he blared. “What part of that sounds good to you?”

Before the man had the chance to open his mouth, though, Akihito continued.

“Asami needs us,” he said, steadying his voice after a long, deep breath.

Those words seemed to have done the trick. The eyes behind the glasses lit up, and Kirishima’s face immediately regained its usual stoic, determined expression.

“Do you really think you need to remind me of that?” he asked, with a very angry frown.

“Apparently!” the photographer replied, his eyes defiant as he spoke.

The brief argument, however, was interrupted when the room was invaded by the most delicious scent.

“Can you smell that?” Akihito whispered, eyes closed as he let the familiar smell fill his nostrils.

“Yes…”

 _“Lotus flowers!”_ he said.

 _“Caramel!”_ Kirishima exclaimed at the same time.

The divergent responses made the two men open their eyes and raise an eyebrow.

++++

“Wait,” Kirishima heard the photographer ask some time later, when the line seemed to finally move a little. “ _‘Check asset you wish to forfeit_ ’? What the hell does this mean?”

He quickly located the item Akihito was referring to - one that he did not remember having to answer in his previous form.

“I might be reading it wrong,” he replied, looking at his own form over the rim of his glasses, “but it looks like that is the price we have to pay for the check-out.”

Akihito’s eyes went wide.

“You mean… We have to give up one of these things?” he whispered.

“Most likely.”

“ _Forever?_ ”

Kirishima nodded quietly in response. The terms in the form were rather vague, but at the end of the day, it was just like everyone said.

_Hope for the best, prepare for the worst._

“Crap…” he heard the photographer complain. “I don’t even know what these options are!”

“Let me see them.”

“‘Temporal Lobe’,” Akihito tapped his pen on the first item as he read it. “Does that have anything to do with time?”

“Yes. It’s the part of the brain responsible for memory, among other things.”

“Fuck! I don’t want to lose my memory!” the younger man exclaimed in response, before moving on to the next alternative. “Oc- Occiti- Ocipi-”

“Occipital Lobe.”

The photographer frowned, looking confused.

“I'm not sure about that one,” Kirishima whispered, “but it might have something to do with vision.”

“It ' _might'_?”

“I would not pick that one, just to be safe,” he added. “What's next?”

“Speech, pancreas and sexual function,” the photographer replied. “The last one is not really an option so I'm stuck with one of the first two.”

“Hm…”

“What now?” Akihito asked, his tone of voice verging on sheer panic. “ _Speech_ … Does that mean I won't be able to speak anymore? As in, _never again_?”

Kirishima couldn’t help but smirk.

“Could I be that lucky?” he whispered.

The photographer, however, did not look amused.

“Haha, very funny,” he said, after narrowing his eyes. “Hilarious.”

“I was thinking of ‘relief’, but ‘funny’ works too.”

“You are being mean,” Akihito hissed. “This is serious!”

“Fine, my apologies.”

After a very long moment of concerned silence, the photographer spoke again.

“Well, I can always choose “pancreas”, right?” he said. “I mean, it's not a vital organ or anything, is it?”

It was Kirishima’s turn to narrow his eyes.

“Do you even know what a pancreas does?” he asked.

“I don't,” the photographer replied, “but if it is not a vital organ, then I assume that what it does _is not vital_!”

The secretary sighed.

No wonder his boss was always worried sick about that rascal - Takaba Akihito, sometimes, could have the most absurd ideas.

“Sure, go ahead, give up your pancreas,” he muttered. “It should be fine, in case you want to depend on insulin injections for the rest of your life.”

“Insulin? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Did they even teach you basic Biology at school?”

In a matter of seconds, Takaba Akihito was once again foaming at the mouth.  

“Are you- You know what, I think I heard someone at the counter call your name,” he ranted. “It looks like you dropped your Mr-Know-It-All badge as you walked to the end of the line to be with the rest of us, _the ignorant fools!_ ”

Not for the first time since they joined that line, a few heads turned around to look at them, but the expression on everyone’s face, this time, was more intense than usual.

“No offense,” Akihito quickly added, apologetically.

“Just fill the damn questionnaire,” Kirishima snarled in response.

“If you stop picking a fight, I will.”

“I’m not picking a fight.”

As the photographer continued to scribble on his piece of paper, with a pout as big as his stubbornness, Kirishima smirked internally.

_That brat._

++++

He was beginning to feel that he had been standing in that damn line for days instead of minutes or hours.

The smell of the lotus flowers was long gone, replaced by an even better scent, one that made him feel like he was floating above the clouds.

Asami’s cologne.

Every now and then, he would feel this unexplainable warmth spread all over his body, as if he was wrapped in a soft, cozy blanket, his ear tingling as Asami’s voice whispered things he could not always understand.

His voice sounded so urgent and bleak…

They really needed to get back.

“Fine,” he said, after a disheartened sigh. “I guess it's speech for me,” he finally announced, staring at the floor as he dragged his feet one step closer to the checkout counter. “Goodbye singing in the shower and talking on the phone...”

“And screaming,” Kirishima added, his voice barely audible when he continued. _“And moaning.”_

Akihito stopped on his tracks, a malicious smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, now I see why you want to mute me,” he said, watching as the secretary rolled his eyes. “Am I really that loud?”

“You have _no_ idea.”

The photographer tilted his chin up, proudly. Yes, he knew he was _really_ that loud, and he knew that Asami was always _really_ turned on by his vocal displays of pleasure.

Too bad he would no longer be able to embarrass Kirishima with his usual screaming and moaning, but at least they could still rely on Asami’s grunts and shameless comments to make the secretary blush at least a little.

“Crap…” Akihito whispered some time later, when all the latest radio hits seemed to enter his mind at once. “Now all I can think about is all the karaoke songs I will never get to sing!”

His comment only elicited another eyeroll from the man by his side.

“What were your options, by the way?” he asked, trying to steal a glance at Kirishima’s form.

“None of your business.”

“Kirishima…” Akihito replied, raising an eyebrow. “For someone that is always criticizing my manners, you have quite the attitude, you know ?”

After a long moment of indecision, in which the secretary seemed to be struggling with the urge to give him another impolite response, Kirishima finally passed him the yellow paper attached to his clipboard.

“Fine...”

_Victory._

“Sexual function,” Akihito started reading aloud, only to be shushed by a very flustered Kirishima. “Leg movement. Lung integrity,” he continued. “What do they mean by 'lung integrity'?”

“I don’t know, but it sounds serious.”

“Kidneys. Brainstem,” Akihito then paused, and frowned. “Brainstem?”

“If it has “brain” on it, you don’t want to mess with it,” Kirishima replied, after a shrug. “It’s a good rule to follow.”

“Right…” he nodded in agreement, before frowning again. “Wait, and you chose ‘leg movement’, when you had ‘sexual function’?”

Kirishima pursed his lips, and squared his shoulders before replying.

“Well, you had “sexual function” too and you didn’t pick it either.”

“It’s different.”

“Well, _clearly_ ,” the secretary argued, his eyes going wide as he spoke. “But the fact I’m not as active as you doesn’t mean I’m not active.”

“Sure,” the photographer chuckled.

“What are you implying?”

“I’m just saying, and correct me if I’m wrong,” Akihito said, after clearing his throat, “that you don’t seem to make as much use of your ‘sexual function’ as you do of your ‘leg movement’.”

He had to force himself not to burst into laughter. Kirishima’s face looked like a ripe tomato.

"Thanks for sharing your thoughts," the secretary replied, "but I assure you’re off the mark."

“Oh yeah? Well…” he paused to clear his throat again and stifle a chuckle. “If Asami ever finds out you had the option, he’s going to be pretty mad at you.”

“I’m sure he would understand,” the secretary replied, with his usual pomp and elegance. “He, of all people, would never give up ‘sexual function’ himself.”

“That is true,” the photographer agreed, his eyes distant and wide as he gave a thoughtful nod. “I wonder what he would pick…”

“Nothing,” Kirishima was quick to answer. “He would instead burn this place to the ground and demand his immediate discharge.”

The two of them smirked.

“Yeah, I can see him doing that…” Akihito whispered.

_He missed the damn bastard._

“Can I have my form back now?” the secretary asked, forcing him to snap out of his blues. “Has it given you the perspective you needed?”

“Yeah…”

“I bet ‘not singing karaoke ever again’ doesn’t sound so bad now, huh?”

Akihito nodded as he returned the green paper and the clipboard to the man by his side.

All he wanted was to go back home.

++++

“I can't stop thinking about Asami.”

He was quite sure it was the eleventh time he heard that sentence, but stopped himself from complaining as the photographer voiced his concerns.

“I think I heard his voice earlier today,” he heard the younger man continue. “I mean, I don't even know, is time the same here?”

“Probably not,” Kirishima replied. “I’ve heard many voices ever since I got here, but it's hard to tell which voice is whose. It's annoying. That, and all the chewing.”

“Chewing?”

“Yes.”

It felt like someone had been having his meals right next to his left ear.

Knowing his relatively small circle of acquaintances and all their weird quirks, he was willing to bet his money the noisy eater was Shinada Tatsuo.

“But I know what you mean,” he continued, noticing that the man by his side still looked pretty down in the dumps. “I think Asami-sama’s voice is the saddest,” he said. “I heard it too.”

The photographer was about to open his mouth to comment, but their arrival at the elusive checkout counter seemed to have derailed his train of thought.

“You didn’t answer the asset question,” the nurse behind the counter pointed out, as soon as Akihito handed in his form.

“Damn.”

With an impatient grunt, the photographer checked the desired box and returned the clipboard, tapping his fingers nervously on the glassy surface of the desk.

“Excellent,” the nurse replied, with a satisfied grin. “You're good to go, gentlemen.”

“Great,” Akihito muttered, jumping on the spot as he prepared to rush towards the exit. “Let's go.”

It was by mere chance that Kirishima glanced at the desk one last time.

His jaw nearly dropped.

“E-Excuse me, I'm sorry, I think there is a mistake,” he said, pointing to the form Akihito had filled. “He checked the wrong box. Akihito, oi,” he called out. “You ch-”

“Too late,” the nurse interrupted, lacing his fingers over the desk. “He's already gone back.”

And indeed, when Kirishima looked at the door leading to the exit, the photographer was no longer there.

“Crap,” he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Akihito and Kirishima will be back with the crowd (each of them short of one precious asset!) on Chapter 56. Chapter 55 will be released very soon, I promise! ^_^ As always, thanks for your support and patience!


End file.
